


Idle Condeersation (like conversation but with 'deer')

by Otterly



Series: deer/tiger idiots [4]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 22:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18270290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otterly/pseuds/Otterly
Summary: Jamie shoots the shit while Cameron plays some dumb racing game what a nerdFor /ztg/'s Thematic Thursday: Gender/Species Swap





	Idle Condeersation (like conversation but with 'deer')

**Author's Note:**

> You should probably read Proximity and Blood, Sweat and Deers to get the most out of this fic <3

For all of my many wants, needs and desires (though honestly when I say any of those things I probably mean the same thing), I’ve never had a problem with not being able to play a video game.

Like, it was definitely _a thing_  back in middle school. There’d be a game that only allowed for like, four players, and there’d be six of us, and two of us would always get into a fight over who’d get the last spot in the local splitscreen and I’d just be hanging out like “Oh hey, don’t mind me, I’m just here to have a good time.”

Actual _game_  games are funner anyway. Like, tag and poker and craps and beer pong. Traditional games, I guess? But when I think of ‘traditional games’ I kind of just think of old-school RPGs and stuff.

It’s weird. I could probably definitely figure that all out after an hour or two on Zoogle but really, who cares enough to do that?

Anyway, I’m fine with not playing video games, especially because it’s usually Cameron who’s playing, and if I’m not playing he lets me put my legs on his lap while he plays.

Also, he likes driving games, like some kind of giant nerd, so it’s not like I’m missing out on anything.

“Did you just say something?” he says.

On screen, his car—I have no idea what kind of car it is but it’s a bright cherry red, which is his favorite color—speeds through a street at midnight, passing other cars and twisting and turning and generally abusing inertia in the same way that a wolf pup might abuse a chew toy.

I hum. “Nah, I was just thinking about how dorky your game is.”

“Would you rather we play something together?”

“Nope. I like watching you.”

“Do you, now?”

“Ew, stop.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Jamie. I was gonna do a sick trick and say ‘well, watch this!’ but now you’ve made it sound sexual.”

“…I’ll show you sexual.”

“Stop.”

“You _literally_  started it.”

We take a moment for an awkward silence. The sound of burning rubber fills the room.

I shift my legs, feeling like they weigh a million pounds, and bring myself closer to Cameron, putting the backs of my knees on his left quad. He doesn’t seem to mind, so I keep them there.

“Hey,” I say.

“Yes?”

“What if our species were swapped?”

“What do you mean, like if I was a deer and you were a tiger, or if we were both different species entirely?”

“Well when I was talking about it the first time I was thinking about the first one, but the second one’s also interesting. What do you think we’d be if we weren’t a deer or tiger? You think we’d be friends still? You think we’d get along at all? Or would everything just be so weird we wouldn’t even be in the same country?”

“First off, I’d be a possum. You’d be a wolf.”

“Why a wolf?”

“It’d be funny for you to be as big and stupid as you act.”

I pull a knee to my chest and kick his thighs moderately hard.

“Ow,” he murmurs.

“Why’d you pick possum?”

“Have you seen possum moms?”

“Oh like those pictures of possum moms with a thousand babies on them? Those are _really good,_  but I still have no idea who makes them or what exactly what they are.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, like, all that stuff that’s going around now about how possums are like the best moms in the entire world? You think that it’s like an ad campaign or something?”

He chews on his lip. “No idea. If it is, then it’s working. Possums are cool as shit.”

“Wow, you’re actually swearing for once!”

“Don’t get used to it. I think I’ve been hanging out with you too much.”

“We both know there’s no such thing.”

“What were the other parts of your question?”

I clear my throat real quick before speaking. “Would we still be friends? Or would we even get along if not?”

“Well like, that’s a question that’s impossible to answer.”

“What?” I frown. “Why? What the hell? You’re supposed to be like ‘no matter what universe we’re always gonna be best friends’ or some sappy shit like that.”

“Okay, just because I—hold on.”

He sticks his tongue out slightly as he completes what I assume to be something difficult in the game. I’m not entirely sure, since I’m too busy staring at his focused face. As his tongue comes out further and further, but ears start twitching. One, then the other. But never both at the same time.

His neck veins also kinda throb but that’s not nearly as cute as the other details.

“Okay.” He finally relaxes, raising a knee and lifting my legs up. “So _the reason_  I said that it’s impossible to say is because scientists are still trying to figure out how much your species ends up contributing to your actual, well, self. Because they have to figure out what they mean by ‘species’ in the first place. Is it a genetics thing? Or is the thing about different species that ends up being more meaningful in terms of your self identity the kind of culture that your species is built around? Is a sheep more predisposed to being obedient? Are mice easi;y frightened by everything? That kind of thing.”

I can hear a smile on his face now. “So now that I’ve said that, then it’s time to go back to your previous question. Would we be friends? Well, would we even be the same mammals? You wouldn’t be a deer—you’d be a wolf. You’re a really social guy, so I can assume that _that_  wouldn’t change, but what would? Wolves are stronger than deer physically. Would you be a super physical mammal? Would you have gone into contact sports from a young age? Would that have changed your social status from social butterfly to social dominator? Would you be the center of attention in every conversation because of brute force instead of adorably endearing faux-confidence?”

“Hey!” I bark.

“Most importantly, though,” he says as he gives me a kitten-like side eye. “What would your wolf name be?”

“Oh, man…” I try and jog my mind, searching for a spark of inspiration, a bright flash of genius that I know is somewhere inside of my head. Luckily enough, it’s _really_  easy to find. I smile at Cameron and scoot further down the couch until my butt’s pressed against his thigh and my hooves are hanging off of the couch’s arm. “I think my wolf name would be _Jaxton Firewoof.”_

* * *

 

Jaxton Firewoof stepped into class, his dark furred chest partially visible through the designer silk shirt he was wearing, halfway unbuttoned, his chiseled, bulging muscles rippling in the dank, golden afternoon sunlight. He was a wolf of jet black coloring, with bright yellow eyes to boot, and he was commonly agreed upon to be the most attractive minor in the entire county of Zootopia.

His teacher, Mr. Lupus, was in the middle of a lecture when he walked in. The old, silver faced wolf with the squarest of jaws didn’t even bat an eye as Jaxton strutted in—the younger wolf’s father was a frequent donator to the school’s funding, you see, and as such Jaxton was pretty much allowed to do whatever he wanted.

Jaxton took his usual seat, a desk in the back corner of the class, perfect for not listening to the actual lessons and for focusing on the thing that truly mattered to him: his art.

He would frequently sit in his styled ‘corner of coolness’ and draw his classmates. It was the only thing that calmed him from the inner despair that threatened to burn him up from the inside every day.

Recently his eye was on an opossum in his class.

Jerry. A bookwormish kid at his core, he—

 

* * *

**”Why is my name Jerry.”**

There’s a cute ‘bloop’ as Cameron puts the game on pause, prompting me to sit up and tilt my head. There’s a less cute whimper that slips out of my mouth when he turns to full on tiger glare at me with his giant lemonade colored eyes. My arms strain to keep me upright.

“Because,” I say slowly. “You’re just a ‘Jerry’ kind of guy without your…”

“My…” he growls, his teeth reflecting the TV’s blue light.

“Your stripes!” I smile.

And I keep smiling.

Did I floss today?

Cameron turns away, lowering my heart’s BPM by a hundred. I lie back down as he continues the game, speeding through a generic Savannah Central street against AI set to the hardest difficulty.

“What do you think your possum name would be?” I ask.

“Not Jerry,” he replies immediately.

“Okay, what about your deer name?”

He flicks an ear. “What do you mean?”

“What if our species were switched?”

“Then I’d be dead.”

“What?”

“You’d have killed me by now.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you even said that!”

“It’s true. Imagine you, but with all the power of a young adult tiger.”

“Oh, because you’re _so strong.”_

“Who broke our school’s weightlifting record?”

“Our school’s all prey except for literally you. And maybe Minh.”

“If I was a deer my name would probably be Nick. But people would call me Nicky because it’d be ironic, since my antlers would be abnormally huge.”

I slap his shoulder.

“What?” he asks.

“Are you making fun of me? Sorry, I should have asked first.”

“No. That hurt.”

“No it didn’t.”

A happy string of synth music rings out from the screen. Cameron selects another level.

“What do you think my tiger name would be?” I spot his tail twitching around and put a hoof on it, stopping it from moving. It struggles under the weight of my palm, but relents.

“James.”

 _"James._  Heck yeah.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re not gonna drop me, are you?” whimpered Camden.

“Never,” rumbled James, pulling the deer closer as they hung from the space net. “You shouldn’t have come after me. You can’t climb, with your sleek, slender, girlish build. It’s adorable, yes, but you could have gotten hurt.”

“But I had to!” the deer protested, nuzzling the tiger’s wide chest. “I hurt your feelings. I said some stupid things. I’m—“

“Hush,” James interrupted. “I know. You didn’t mean any harm. I just…”

With minimal effort, literally the least effort possible, he lifted the deer and seated him in a secure space of the space net, amongst a particularly dense tangle of rope before sitting beside him, using his supernatural sense of balance to hang off of a single rope with nothing but his hamstrings.

“I’m just so tired of the _prejudice,”_ James said, closing his eyes, though the dark orange of the sunset still pierced through the veils of darkness that were his eyelids. “Even someone as physically strong as me can’t live with the kind of uneducated hate that I go through each day. The Nighthowler hoax was a fake, wasn’t it? Then why do I still see fear in your eyes when you look at me? Your sweet, beautiful blue eyes, looking at me, scared. There’s nothing more heartrending than that.”

“Oh, _James,_ ” Camden moaned. “You’re so strong. You’re like like if a brick wall had sex with a Hipponese katana—“

 

* * *

 

“Stop,” Cameron groans. “Please please _please_  stop.”

“But w _hy?”_  I whine.

“Because that actually got offensive.”

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive.”

“Do you really think I’m that angsty?”

“I said nothing about you! James is _me.”_

“And Camden? Really?”

“It’s a cute name,” I scoff. “Okay, what if we were girls?”

 

* * *

 

Camille smelled like home and comfort, and if Jamie had to pick a place to die right then, it would be wrapped in her arms, feeling the toasty heat come off of her body, surrounding her in pure, unsanctioned love.

It had been a long day at school. Upon coming back to Camille’s place it was a no-brainer to get on the couch and cuddle each other’s brains out.

“Jamie?” Camille asked, her velvet voice coming through the quiet of the room.

Jamie herself was on the edge of sleep, but there was nothing that could stop her from the opportunity to spend time with her one and only. “Yes, kitty?”

“Will you marry me?”

“One day, sure. We’re still minors.”

“Engaged, then. Would you get engaged to me? Say I had a ring with me.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Then yeah, sure,” Jamie said.

“You probably want to reach into my back pocket.”

The deer’s eyes shot open. Her hooves immediately went to her girlfriend’s butt pocket, within seconds finding a ring in it and _oh…_

It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. 24 karat gold for the vine-shaped band, and in the middle of it were a trio of diamonds, the sparkliest little jewels in existence. She—

 

* * *

“Why would we be dating?” asks Cameron.

“Because girls aren’t pussies about everything.”

And just like that, the easy energy that’s been going around was sucked out of the room. There’s a giant _crash_  as Cameron makes a really, really bad turn and explodes in game. Sad sounding electronic music starts to play.

Kinda feels hard to breathe. Cameron’s tail is moving around. Like I’ve trapped a mouse under my palm.

That’s fine.

It’s fine. I know just what to say.

“Cammie?”

I hear him swallow hard. “Yeah?”

“You died.”

“Yeah, I know. I think I’m getting bored of this game. Probably gonna switch.”

“Cool. Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Still, neither of us move.

So I try again. “Hey, Cammie?”

“Yes?”

“I think that no matter what, we’d be beside each other, and we’d find each other, and we’d be friends, always. Do you agree?”

He nods. Still, no one’s moving.

Maybe it’s for the best. I kinda surprised myself with that one, too.

We could capitalize on this moment.

We could rush to endgame.

…

But maybe we could relax for a little while.

“Now that you’re dead, do you want to play Smash?”

“Can I play Brayonetta?”

“No.”

“…Fine.”

“Also, I think that you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“I know. I think you’re the best, too.”

“And I love you. Platonically.”

“Love you too, Jamie.”


End file.
